


Hurt

by sisterxmorphine



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men
Genre: Angst, Implied Violence, One Shot, blood warning, implied self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 11:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisterxmorphine/pseuds/sisterxmorphine
Summary: Laura Kinney. Known as X-23. Known as Wolverine. Known as a monster.Laura wakes after her trigger scent is used against her and faces the self torment that always follows.





	Hurt

_ It wasn’t supposed to be like this… _

_ How long had it been since the last time? _

Laura felt the veil lift from her consciousness, revealing absolute carnage around her. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not again.

_ Not again. _

_ Not ever again. _

She fell to her knees, not even caring about holding back the tears that filled her eyes. Laura looked down to her bloody hands and the rest of her blood soaked body. Agony rose from her heart, from deep in her soul, into a loud, pained cry.

Alone again. She could barely remember anything. Not the mission, not the location. Was she even on a mission? Or was she just attacked by adversaries, set off for no reason? Her brain was filled with fog and the only thing she knew for sure was that the torment was real.

This was something she couldn't take back. She couldn't even keep calm long enough to count the fatalities around her. The fatalities that she caused.

No matter how much she wanted to fight it, she couldn’t. She had no place in her own mind when it happened. She was not herself and as long as she was susceptible to the control, she would never be herself. Laura lived with fear and paranoia that she never spoke of because of things like this.

How can you be a hero when you do things like  _ this…? _

Laura looked around at the bodies around her, she felt a knot build in her chest. What she took from them all was something that could never be given back.

It would be imprisonment this time, for sure. To be locked away in a cage, treated like a savage animal. 

_ Again. _

Her bloodstained hands covered her face as she sobbed. Her body ached, the marks on her hands and feet where her claws ripped through her skin, as they always did, stung as they slowly healed. Her blood mixed with the blood of her victims, dripping to the ground below.

She still dreamt about being locked away, only being taken out to kill. It was a piece of her that would never leave, it  _ was _ her. No matter how much she reminded herself of the circumstances, of being controlled and set off, she blamed herself. All the blood on her hands that she would never be cleansed of would follow her like the worst of ghosts to always haunt her. She wanted so badly to be free of it. But that would never come.

She should have been sent away then. When Captain America wanted her to be. She was just a damn monster anyways, wasn’t she? No good soul would ever do this. Why wasn't she just strong enough to fight it? She hated herself for that.

Her cries were loud, she held her body, nails digging into her skin. Why did she have to be like this?

_ Why? _

_ Why couldn't she be free of this flaw? _

It wouldn't be long until the scene would be discovered. She could run, like some damn coward. Or she could face up to the fact that she caused it all. She was a reason why people feared her kind. She could just imagine the headlines…

_ MUTANT MASSACRES INNOCENTS --- MUTANTS ARE TOO DANGEROUS FOR HUMANITY _

And so on...

It was never her fault, but that didn’t matter. It was still her, whether she was in control or not. She still had to deal with the aftermath of it all.

She didn’t know what it was like to not be someone else’s weapon. And despite that, she always told herself that it was  _ her  _ fault. All the violence and all the death were  _ her  _ fault. 

They obviously weren’t, but she wouldn’t give that any thought. To her it was her body doing the actions, so it was her who did all the bad things. When she was younger, it wasn’t such a heavy thought. She didn’t have many autonomous thoughts when she was younger. It was mostly just following orders. Go here and go there to kill, come back and be locked away.

It wasn’t until she saw the life leave her mother’s eyes that she started to realize what a fucking monster she was.

_ You are a child, not a weapon. _

The voice still echoed in her head. She wanted to believe that, the last words of her mother. The only one that ever showed her real compassion.

_ You are my child. You are my daughter. And I love you… _

It was so painful. She always remembered this after she woke with more blood on her hands. She wasn’t a child anymore, and her mother wasn’t around to save her. It had been years since then. She wasn’t a little innocent child. And she never was. Not when her only purpose for creation was to bring death.

She wanted to beg and plead for someone just to end her to put a stop to it all. She cried before her father, wanting to be free of that pain. He could do it, she knew he was capable of it. They were practically one in the same,  _ why couldn’t he just listen to her? _

Laura didn’t know how long she wept. Minutes? Hours? Nothing felt real. Nothing but the pain and guilt.

She wanted so badly to shove her claws into her chest, through her heart. But it never worked. Nothing ever did. She never grew above inflicting pain on herself, she’d do it more frequently now. 

Laura was her own monster. In her nightmares, she hunted herself down.

After some time she found herself curled up in a ball on the floor, no longer able to cry. 

_ She waited.  _

_ And waited. _

_ She’d wait to be free of the agony. _

Relief didn’t come soon enough. True relief wouldn’t. 

In her blind torment, she did damage to herself. She left herself slipping in and out of consciousness.

When she had a full recovery, she woke to a bright hospital room. Restraints kept her bound to the bed. 

For the safety of those around her or for her own safety?

There were wires hooked to her, some to her forehead. This felt too familiar. She always felt like a test subject. Her only hope was that she was in the hands of fellow mutants, it would be bad if she wasn’t. She couldn’t handle any other bad things today.

Her memory was still a little foggy. But she did have one clear thought.

_ Not again. _

_ Never again. _


End file.
